


if he comes back

by Thebloomaster



Category: Yu-Gi-Oh! - All Media Types, Yu-Gi-Oh! Duel Monsters (Anime & Manga)
Genre: Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Blood, Blood and Injury, Crying, Dark, Gen, Heavy Angst, Hospitalization, Implied/Referenced Self-Harm, Implied/Referenced Suicide, M/M, Post-Canon, Self-Harm, black magic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-18
Updated: 2020-09-18
Packaged: 2021-03-07 21:49:09
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,049
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26534641
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Thebloomaster/pseuds/Thebloomaster
Summary: Yugi knows he should've moved on years ago. But he can't.Because what if Atem comes back?Desperately, he tries once and for all to bring his partner back at any cost.tw for blood/dark themes
Relationships: Atem/Mutou Yuugi, Mutou Yuugi/Yami Yuugi, Puzzleshipping - Relationship, blindshipping - Relationship
Comments: 6
Kudos: 42





	if he comes back

_But what if Atem comes back?_

Yugi knew that this was a naive question to ask. Delusional, even. _Unhealthy_ , was another word that would apply too. Therefore, he was _just_ sane enough to not verbalize it. He’d pretend as if that wasn’t the biting question always in the back of his mind. The question that kept him tethered firmly in his place. The question that kept him attached to this world. 

He’d tried to silence it. It was hard at first, but it became easier as he spent more time with his friends, with his family. But then they graduated, just like that. Téa was in America pursuing her dream, and Tristan had left for University as well. Only Joey had stayed. He’d reached out to Ryou, knowing that some of their experiences had been similar, but even he had found his closure. Though he’d never complain, Yugi knew that he was bringing him down anytime he brought up the past. 

Yugi peeled back the rug.

And then his mom wanted to move. His grandpa had died, and she’d wanted to sell the shop. Yugi refused, and for a while this held her off. He wanted to run the shop in his grandpa’s honor. But after another year, even she couldn’t bear to live here anymore. She’d check in every day with a phone call. Even that was just a formality. He’d tell her what she wanted to hear. That he was doing well.

_If he’d left, how would Atem ever find his way home?_

He touched his chest. For a while, he’d worn a different necklace, but it just felt like an insult. Nothing adorned his chest. Now he only had one heart. 

And he’d tried. He’d tried to make things work with Téa. After four dates she’d seen through him.

“Why are you doing this, Yugi?” She’d admonished him. “It’s clear you’re still not over Atem. What are you trying to do?”

He hadn’t had an answer. _Why_ couldn’t he love her? He’d held a torch for her for years—and then Atem came into his life and it burned only for him. He couldn’t deny it. All he could do was apologize profusely, stammering any sort of futile explanation. Tears filled her eyes and she embraced him.

“Yugi, I know. And I’m not mad…I just think you need to be more honest with yourself. We’re here for you too.”

She’d left three months later, and Tristan one month after. They’d be back on holidays, and Yugi would plaster a smile across his face. Life had become a game for him, but it wasn’t a fun one. He’d duel people when they challenged him, but his heart just wasn’t in the cards anymore. It had been ripped out of him years ago. 

He ignited the lighter and gazed at the flame. He ran the blade through the flame. The flame glistened across the metal. The color was intoxicating. 

Joey had moved in after Yugi was hospitalized. He was Yugi’s emergency contact. Yugi had been skin and bones at that time. He was nothing more than a soulless doll. People worried, but they worried from afar. Not Joey, though. Yugi hadn’t seen him cry in years up until that moment. He knew he had to keep pushing through, and Joey was there to push when Yugi was too tired to.

On each July 26th, he’d privately celebrated Atem’s birthday. That included today. It probably wasn’t his real birthday—Atem didn’t remember his. But when he was The Other Yugi, that was the day they’d chosen. He’d never told anyone else. Today he made honey cakes. He made enough for two, but Joey wasn’t coming home. 

Atem was. 

He lit the five white candles. Then he lit the crimson one. He whispered a prayer, a chant, an incantation for the ears of the gods. Joey wouldn’t be home for a few days. He was meeting Mai. Soon, he wouldn’t have Yugi tethering him here anymore. And Yugi wouldn’t feel so bad if his plan didn’t work.

Shakily exhaling, he slid the sharpened knife over his wrist. He’d sterilized it well. He’d learned. And with his fingers, he squeezed the new wound. Slowly, he drew the array on the hardwood floor. He’d had to pierce his flesh again before it was complete. It felt almost euphoric. If he could have just one more conversation with Atem it would all be worth it. 

He continued the incantation. Tears streamed down his cheeks. He drew more blood, dripping it into the flame of each candle. Then he knelt at the outside of the array. He repeated the incantation several more times.

_What if Atem doesn’t want to come home?_

He froze, trembling at the new question. He looked at his knife. Blood was everywhere. All over his clothes. Dripping all around the array. Atem was nowhere to be found. The candles were halfway used. Surely if Atem were coming he would’ve by now. He couldn’t ask anymore what ifs. And for a horrible moment, Yugi couldn’t remember his face, his voice. He cried out, finally sobbing. Body shaking with ragged breaths, he grabbed the knife again. Still crying, his tears mixed with blood. His nose started to run. He wiped his face on his sleeve. 

He pulled his knees into his chest, hyperventilating. All that he knew was the pain of his ribcage suffocating his lungs. _Atem,_ he thought. And then he remembered his crimson eyes. He remembered his confident gaze. He remembered his voice. How could he give up so easily?

_Maybe...maybe I didn’t draw it right. I can try again._

He took a steadying breath. “Atem…if I can’t bring you here…” he rasped, “Then, my second heart, I’ll come to you… _Please_ …Please don’t leave me...” He made a new incision on the arm he hadn’t used, but his shaky hand slipped and it was deeper than intended. He cried out, grasping his wrist. 

“ _Yugi_! Stop!” 

That voice. Was he delusional, or—

Though he was feeling faint, and the room was lit only by candlelight, he could make out his partner’s face. Atem flicked the lights on, and Yugi could see how grotesque the floor was. It looked like it came straight out of a scary movie. But then he saw his other self standing before him in flesh. Had he succeeded after all? He smiled, but it faded as he saw the expression of horror across his features.

“Atem,” he rasped. “I…I can’t believe it. I can’t believe this spell worked.” He was crying too now. “I waited for you, I had always hoped…” He trailed off. Why was Atem weeping? The pharaoh himself knelt in front of him.

“Aibou…Why have you done this to yourself?” He grasped Yugi’s hands for a moment, searching Yugi’s eyes for an answer before pulling him into his chest. He grunted as he lifted his partner. “You’re still bleeding. You’ll die at this rate.”

“I don’t care what happens to me, Atem…this is the first time I’ve felt complete in years...since the day I sent you...away from us.” Yugi said, almost _laughing_ ironically through his sobs. He couldn’t be strong anymore. Atem was bandaging Yugi’s arms. His own white clothes were now stained with Yugi’s blood. 

“How can you say such a thing, Yugi?” He hissed. As Yugi's breaths drew in more rapidly, he changed his tone. “Don’t you see how much you’re worth? You haven’t sent me anywhere...you freed me, Yugi.”

Evidently this was the wrong thing for Atem to say. Yugi only sobbed more, grasping the fabric of Atem’s garments. “You said a spell brought me here, Yugi, but that’s not the case.” He wiped Yugi’s tears with his thumbs. 

“What—”

“The gods allowed me to come back. You’re loved by the gods, Yugi. Fate had been cruel, and after all you’ve given…” He trailed off, looking at the floor sadly. “I thought it would be best for you if I left, Aibou. For you. To keep you from such...unearthly things. But, here you are seeking out demons. Seeking...I—”

Yugi squeezed Atem into a hug, apologizing profusely again. Stunned, the pharaoh rubbed his back. 

“Please don’t leave me again, Atem—don’t leave me.” He sobbed. Years of pain flowed out of him. Though Atem felt all kinds of emotions, he felt the one Yugi had taught him the most—compassion, and he held him, stroking his back. “Please forgive me, Atem. I just couldn’t go on without you. I want to be with you forever, even if I have to sell what little is left of my soul...even if it’s only in death.” He rambled, shaking more and more. His chest grew tight. 

“Aibou…” Atem said. He was at a loss for words. He examined Yugi. He was _too_ pale, so sweaty. His patchy bandage work would have to do for now. “I’m taking you to the hospital. I fear you’re bleeding out.”

“I made you honey cakes...for your birthday.” 

***

When Yugi saw his partner standing over him, he thought he was dreaming. Or that he had dreamt the whole Ceremonial Duel and everything that followed it. And then he saw his wounds. He saw the look of agony on his partner’s face. Yugi’s eyes welled with guilty tears. Guilty for hurting Atem in this way, guilty for surely hurting Joey and his friends, and guilty for not feeling guilty enough. Because all of that, in his mind, was worth seeing Atem. 

“Yugi…” Atem said, his tone a mix of relief and reproach. He pinched the bridge of his nose. “Seeing you in this state...I...don’t know what to think, Aibou.” He squeezed Yugi’s hand. 

“I t-tried, Yami….I tried to be strong...but...” Yugi stammered, switching into calling Atem by the first name he’d known him by. “It was unbearable...How can I be whole without my other half?”

Atem touched his own chest. He’s still wearing the clothes stained by Yugi’s blood. He furrowed his brow and sighed. “I felt the same, Aibou. I had to stop watching you for some time, because it was too painful…and then I felt that you were calling me today...I should be apologizing. I thought you’d been able to move on, and _I_ hadn’t even been able to.” He shook his head. 

Steadily, Yugi asked. “Are you…going to stay?”

Atem nodded stiffly. “I never wanted to leave, Yugi. I was wrong to think you’d be better off without me…”

Yugi shook his head fervently.

“There’s been an aching in my heart ever since I left. I never should have stopped watching over you. This is my fault.” He looked down at the sterile white floor. Something about the room was just as eerie as the bloodbath he’d seen in Yugi’s room. 

“No…” Yugi said. “It’s not your fault.” He motioned for Atem to join him on the bed. The pharaoh carefully avoided the IVs. “I wish I could’ve given you your birthday gifts.” 

Atem kissed his partner’s forehead, which was slick with sweat. The hospital had called Joey, and he’d be here soon. Yugi grasped his arm, as if he still didn’t believe his partner was here.

“I want to be with you forever, too, Yugi.” Atem murmured, recalling one of their earliest conversations. It must have been five years ago. He no longer had a concept of time. Everything was different in the afterlife. 

The gods thought highly of Yugi. Surely, they’d let Atem live on earth again, this time as an ordinary young man. Even though he’d turned down their offer in the past—a foolish choice. He’d waited thousands of years for his rest, which hadn’t been nearly as restful as promised—not without his aibou. And to think of what Yugi had suffered...well, it was unbearable. Surely, they understood. Surely, they’d forgive him. 

And they laid together in Yugi’s hospital bed. They talked. It was awkward at first, clumsy and vulnerable—how could it not be, given the circumstances—but soon they were on the same wavelength again. Yugi’s smile reached his eyes. The light that had left those violet irises had finally returned, no matter how slightly. Atem was home. 

  
  



End file.
